


Caring For Joan

by FanWriter



Category: Elementary
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1605011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanWriter/pseuds/FanWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just something that came to mind at the begining of 'Art in the Blood', 2x23.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caring For Joan

**Author's Note:**

> I know if the show pairs Joan with anybody, it'll probably - eventually - be with Sherlock, but right now I don't know which pairing I like better. Sorry about the bad title; I wrote the story without really thinking of one.

Joan took a deep breath, wrapping her arms around her shoulders as she got up from the couch to stand in front of the fireplace. Mycroft had told her everything during the car ride back to the brownstone - or, at least, she reasoned, everything he could tell her. After settling her on the couch, he told her to call Sherlock while he called for a 'trusted private physician', and they were now waiting for both men to arrive. Staring into the fire, a thought crept up on her; one that made her stomach twist in knots.

Noticing her tense up, Mycroft slid off the couch to join her. Placing a hand on her waist before wrapping his arm around her, he used his other hand to tilt her face towards his. ''I know you have been put through a great ordeal, but please tell me your alright.''

''I'm alright.''

Giving her a half-smirk, he requested, ''Now tell me the truth.''

Biting the inside of her bottom lip, she gazed into his eyes. ''The whole time ... I was missing ... you didn't leave Sherlock's side, right? You were with him. Up until the whole,'' she trailed off and made a quick gesture to the two armed 'guards' in the hall.

He shifted his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, gently massaging the tense muscles. ''By the time I had gotten the call and came here, he already knew something was wrong. After that, however, yes, I was with him until I went for you. You may think of me as mad, but I'll admit - I did have a slight moment of satisfaction when I tazed him. Only for a second, I promise.'' He grinned when he saw her hide a smile. His hand paused briefly as he caught on to her train of thought. ''To my knowledge, Sherlock did not have a relapse. Granted, it's not like he would've just told me. I can tell you, that while I was with him, I noticed no such behavior that would draw me to that conclusion.''

Resting her hands on his chest, she blew out a sigh. ''I was really worried for him. If anything had happened to me ... I've been a constant in his life - I'm just not sure how he would've handle it,'' she admitted, her thoughts jumping from one what-if to the next.

''You were being held, at gunpoint, and you were worried about my little brother?''

''Sometimes, he's like a little brother to me too,'' she admitted.

''You truly are an amazing woman, Joan.''

''Two years.'' Seeing Mycroft look of confusion, she explained. ''In just two years time, he went from being my responsibility, to my friend, to my partner, and now he's like family. It literally feels like just yesterday he was introducing me as his personal valet.'' Shaking her head, smiling, her eyes caught glance of a photograph from a recent case lying on the table. Diverting her gaze hastily, she shuddered.

Mycroft guided her back to the couch, and carefully dapped a blanket over her. Wanting to give her room to breath, he refrained from putting his arm around her. Opting instead for caressing her hand. ''What is it?''

Her eyes had a glazed look to them, as if she was recounting a far-away memory. ''I killed him. The guy I was trying to keep alive. I told his cousin that if he wanted him to live he had to get him to the hospital. He shot him. Maybe if I had just operated there; maybe, if I had just -''

''Joan, listen to me,'' he cut her off. ''There was nothing you could do. You didn't have the right tools, he probably would've bled out if you tried,'' he said, trying to convince her.

''I should've -''

''There was nothing you could've done,'' he repeated, stressing every word. ''At the very least, in his last moments, he knew someone cared - you. There was nothing you could've differently to change the outcome. You must understand that.''

'I do,'' she said curling her legs underneath her. 'I guess I just needed to hear someone say it.'' She leaned over and burrowed her head in the crook of his neck.

Wrapping his arm around her once more, he gently kissed her forehead. ''Get some rest. Sherlock will be here soon enough. You may be required to play referee,'' he joked. Feeling her breathing already evening out, he pulled her closer and took comfort in knowing she was safe.


End file.
